MechWarrior: Living Legends: The Novel
by Stalker117
Summary: MechWarrior is a novelization for the Crysis Wars mod "Living Legends" and must be one of the first novelizations ever made for a mod. I must thank everyone at Living Legends for the help and enthusiasm. Also, special thanks to CHHs Sturmadler, the author of the small introdutory text. Get the game for free on the game's site at mechlivinglegends.
1. Prologue: Forgotten Casualties

PROLOGUE

FORGOTTEN CASUALTIES

_It is the 31st century. War has engulfed the galaxy from the Periphery, to the very heart of the Inner Sphere. The Great Houses, and various other factions, have temporarily put aside their differences to stop the menace of the Clan Invasion. Trellwan. Luthien. Tukayyid. But these stories are well known. They are not the focus of this holovid._

_Let us now part the fog of war, to observe another kind of conflict. Operations so clandestine, their very existence is denied by all parties involved. Those forces which carry out these actions have seen more combat in their brief service than most experience in a lifetime. Swift. Deadly. Unhearalded. These are the untold stories of the soldiers whose reward for success could be ignominious captivity, who lie in unmarked graves upon desolate hellscapes, who are mourned and respected only by their surviving peers: The Living Legends._

* * *

Grabbing his neurohelmet, Colonel William Thorn turned away from the tri-vid projector, snorting at the over-the-top, sensationalist, show.

"Yeah, right." He mumbled to himself while moving away. The two young technicians watching the flamboyant docu-drama remained where they were. Their job had already been done, so all that was needed was for the assault company hidden in that cave to acknowledge the colonel's orders and move away. Still, they looked at their commander with the apprehension of those who had seen too many combat deployments already, as he approached the master sergeant watching over the final preparations.

"Status?" The colonel asked.

"Everything ready to go. Some technicians are still verifying a few things, but we can move at your order, Will." Master Sergeant Saburo Aoki said, in a very calm, professional, manner.

"The Falcons?"

"The last data sent by the scouts puts them at Hill 117 in something like…" He looked at his wrist computer. "three minutes."

"They're ahead of schedule."

"Like the good Clanners they are." Acknowledging the information, William Thorn started to walk away, to the front of the cave. He turned back, while walking, to say to his second-in-command:

"But that's good. We'll get to meet them sooner."

He kept moving, donning his neurohelmet, his thoughts going over a multitude of tactical possibilities and combat plans. The cave his assault unit was using as a hideout was some kind of natural marvel, dug for millennia by the relentless forces of small streams of water. A force as relentless as the colonel hoped his men to be.

He stopped near the two BattleMechs that made the core of that unit. Looking like armour-clad giants, eleven meters tall, sporting huge gun barrels on their arms and torsos, and powerful fusion reactors in their very hearts, those machines were the rulers of the battlefields of the 31st century. Huge and powerful, with enough power to raze entire armies, the BattleMechs inspired terror in the soul of every self-respecting soldier.

Thorn's own _Mauler_ stood near the cave entrance, on one knee, waiting for its pilot to enter the cockpit and bring it to life. The colonel looked up, to the open hatch in the back of the 'Mech's head, from which hung an articulated ladder. A technician was hanging from it, closing a few panels in the broad back of the machine.

Having finished the launch procedures, the tech then descended, saluting the commander when he got to the ground, and moved away to allow him to climb. Before doing so, Thorn glanced back at the cave one last time. Powerful spotlights lit the ample space, allowing him to see the crews of the tanks climbing to the vehicles, and the armour-clad infantry readying their weapons. He also noticed that Sergeant Illich had already climbed into the cockpit of the other BattleMech in that assembly, a _Marauder_, crouched over its big reverse-jointed legs, and waiting for the order to move. The heavy metal canopy came down, sealing the pilot from the outside world. Satisfied, the colonel swung his index finger over his head, giving the order to start the march. The roar of diesel engines and the humming of fusion reactors filled the cramped space, as Thorn climbed to his command post, at the top of the _Mauler_.

Even though the machine was big, the head always seemed incredibly small to him. He contorted in the space between the command chair and the control panel, so he could sit, facing the ample observation windows, that made up what would pass as the _Mauler_'s "face". Only then did he press the switch to close the hatch. He felt the click in his ears when the cockpit pressurized, effectively isolating him from the outside world, inside his own combat capsule atop a powerful 90-ton colossus.

"Thorn's Shadow Legion assault company, state ready op." He ordered over the comm., while his fingers flew over the control panel, bringing it to life with a confusion of lights and colourful screens. Somewhere under him the fusion engine started to whistle, reverberating in the full glory of its fiery core.

"Able Two, states ready op." Sergeant Illich replied, followed by each tank commander and squad leader in the company. They were all tense, cold, knowing what would follow. Still, they all sounded like the professional soldiers they were.

"Very well." Thorn grabbed the control sticks and brought his machine to both feet, standing on its full, impressive, height. "Form up on me. Let's go."

* * *

Their time was one of war. The powerful Clans had been stopped at Tukayyid, but just for a brief period. The whole invasion had been put on a fifteen-year halt, as dictated by the terms of victory, but that hadn't prevented the militaristic enemies of the Inner Sphere from arranging a few raids here and there. It was as if they were seeking and exploiting weaknesses among the defenders. Mercenaries like the Thorn's Shadow Legion both thrived and died in those days of prolific business.

William Thorn himself had already seen his fair share of battles. Almost half a century old, his face had a few scars which told some dreadful stories of his youth. He knew he was getting a little too old to take part in the "big game", but, still, he just couldn't imagine himself doing anything but see ravaged landscapes through the ferro-glass of his canopy, while entire worlds burned furiously around it.

Worlds like this one, a quiet place called Bucklands. The Jade Flacons, one of the most aggressive of the Clans, had undertaken an assault into the very heart of the Lyran Alliance, targeting the industrial world of Coventry. On their way they took a few other worlds as well. The counter-assault was being planned, but, in the meanwhile, it was up to the mercenaries to ascertain the strength and composition of the attackers.

"Support company, are you in place?" Thorn asked over the comm. The answer came a few seconds later, preceded by the clicking of static, as the on-board computers worked to decode the message.

"Affirmative, sir. The scouts are ready to 'TAG the incoming star. Just give the order when you're in place."

Good. Everything was ready.

The Jade Falcons were moving troops to reinforce a nearby base, very probably to start a search for the Legion's dropship. After all, what self-respecting invaders would allow unauthorized landings on their recent possessions? After learning that a new star of 'Mechs was using the same path as the last reinforcements, Thorn decided to plan an ambush in order to take a few prisoners. It wouldn't be easy, given the suicidally determined nature of the Clanners, but he had his orders. The attack would be made in a small snow-covered valley, surrounded by gentle hills and sparse stumpy trees, named Owl's Pass. The support company was hidden behind a few of the hills, almost two kilometres from the planned attack point, hopefully distant enough to not be spotted right away by the enemy sensors. Its missile launcher-equipped tanks ready to engulf the enemy with a volley of pure mayhem.

Meanwhile, the assault company would be hidden in the other side of the valley, ready to attack as soon as the enemy was softened enough. Thorn divided it into two forces, adding a few more tanks and 'Mechs that had escorted the fire-support tanks in the previous hours. The two assault units would divide the Clanner force, diminishing their combat potential even further. Not that it would guarantee a victory. Against the Clans, victory was never guaranteed, even with the best of plans.

"Sir, this is Scout One." A voice called over the comm. Thorn sighed, releasing some tension. Time to get started.

"Report."

"I have the Clanners in sight. Five 'Mechs. A _Masakari_; a _Thor_; a _Shadow Cat_; and two _Ullers_. No infantry nor tanks."

That was odd. Even the Jade Falcons, as obsessed by their concept of honour as they were, seldom sent 'Mechs to the field without any kind of support. Such a thing was not unheard of, but still…

"TAG 'em!" Thorn finally ordered. There was no point in waiting. If the Falcons were planning something, they would have to deal with it anyway. "Support company, open fire! Assault One and Two, prepare to engage!"

On the other side of the valley, the lance of _Partisan_ tanks fired a massive 160 missile-strong, volley. Leaving a huge cloud of gray smoke in their wake, the missiles arced over the hills, and descended over the Clan 'Mechs, following the dim light of the targeting laser. Hidden among the chunks of snow and trees in the flank of the hill, the scout infantry had the sole responsibility of making that first salvo hit its mark. The Clan pilots though, seemed to be expecting such an occurrence, and were fast to spread out, avoiding most of the damage. The only casualty was the _Shadow Cat_, which moved a little too slow, a little too late. The soil around the bird-like machine boiled with explosions for an instant, the snow being immediately vaporized into thick columns of vapour. A huge metal leg flew into the air, twisted into an almost unrecognizable shape, smashing into the ground with a huge rumble. The rest of the machine disappeared under the smoke. One down, four more to go.

"All right!" Thorn yelled. "Assault Company, move!"

Assault One was the first group to meet the Clan 'Mechs, coming from the North. Thorn's _Mauler _strode over a squat hill, its huge feet melting the snow underneath, right into the dusty soil, negating most of the agility of the BattleMechs, their main advantage over other types of ground combat vehicles. It was little comfort that the same problem also plagued the Clan 'Mechs, now coming into sight.

"Ah! So typical of you Freebirths to use foul trickery when facing true Mechwarriors!" The voice cracked over the open frequencies, while both forces traded inaccurate long-range blasts. "Barbarians like you deserve no more than scorn and swift death!"

"Damn! She's babbling nonsense!" Sergeant Saburo Aoki remarked. "I was hoping this Clanner wouldn't do that."

"Can it! Concentrate on the fight!" Thorn yelled, although, truth be told, that specific Clan warrior seemed to be of the talkative type.

"Now you shall die in terror under the talons of the Jade Falcon, stravag scum!"

As a consummate professional, the colonel just ignored the taunting. The Clanner was trying to confound him, maybe scare him a little. Clan warriors were, like the Spartans of long-forgotten Terra, bred specifically for combat, and all of their life was devoted to that single purpose. They were the best combatants humanity had to offer, and, as such, even those outnumbered BattleMechs could be dreadfully dangerous.

Thorn halted the charge, and moved his _Mauler_ into the bottom of the valley. Illich's _Marauder_ and the tanks led by Aoki followed, turning their turrets at the Falcons. Now both forces were getting closer, and the firing was becoming more precise. One of the mercenary tanks, a _Schrek_, stopped dead on its tracks when a direct hit from the _Masakari_'s particle projection canons ripped through the armour, opening a huge hole in the flank. Flames and black, oily, smoke rose into the air, as the surviving crew tried to escape that blazing inferno. Thorn swore, and launched a new missile volley into the enemy assault 'Mech, this time relying on the _Mauler_'s own aiming systems. Thirty long-range missiles flew from box-shaped launching racks mounted over each shoulder, leaving straight lines of white smoke on their trail, accelerating inexorably into their target. The Mechwarrior behind the controls of the assault 'Mech was quite good, and moved her 85-ton machine with incredible agility, tilting the torso downward, managing to dodge most of the missiles. The remaining were still able to crease the topside armour, burning the Jade Falcon insignia painted there, and seemingly cracking open the long range missile launcher. Leaving a trail of black smoke, pouring from the gash in the wrecked weapon, the _Masakari_ strode forward, aligning the double-barred PPCs on its arms for the next shot.

Noticing his slower machine was unable to move out of the line of fire, Thorn flinched instinctively. Two blue beams of pure energy hit the _Mauler_'s mighty chest, making armour explode as it reached critical temperature and boiled in a single moment. The 90-ton man-shaped colossus trembled, but the chest plate withstood the insult. Thorn centred the bird-looking enemy on his reticule and returned fire with the quartet of 30mm autocannons mounted in his machine's lower torso. The hail of bullets carved a trail of craters in the flank of the _Masakari_, forcing it to move out of the way.

The colonel used the second of respite that followed to see how the rest of the battle was unfolding. Illich's _Marauder_ traded blows with the enemy _Thor_. Both machines weighted some 70 tons each, and had a diverse set of weapons, ranging from PPCs to machine guns and missiles. Still, the more advanced man-like Clan model was gaining the advantage, showing only superficial damage, while the _Marauder_, which looked like a big, menacing, crab walking over two long legs, already exhibited deep gashes pouring black smoke and sparks into the atmosphere.

In accordance with the Clanner tradition of single combat, the _Ullers_ did not intervene in the heavier 'Mechs' combats, instead focusing on fighting the tanks. The surviving _Schrek_ cut welding lines into the right leg and arm of one of the light Clan 'Mechs with the three large lasers mounted on its turret. The machine walked backwards, visibly damaged. Almost a kilometre behind it, the APCs from Assault Two were dropping the heavy infantry. And the situation was only getting better. The second _Uller_ was hurled forward when a massive projectile hit it on the back, shattering the armour, and managing to damage internal components. The remaining mercenary 'Mechs were joining the fight, encircling the Clanners in a deadly trap. The angular _Bushwacker_ came firing missiles from the missile launchers mounted on its left arm and over the angular hull. Striding along it was a 45-ton _Hollander II_, a medium BattleMech built around a massive Gauss cannon.

The downed _Uller_ was not moving, so the lighter mercenary 'Mechs joined forces with the armoured infantry in harassing the remaining light Clan 'Mech. The tanks then pointed their weapons at the other enemy units.

"Attacking by the rear?" The enemy commander shouted when her _Masakari_ got hit by laser fire. "Barbarian _surats_! You truly know no honour! As so I shall use any means necessary to dispose of you!"

She then proceeded to welt Thorn's _Mauler _with a well-aimed PPC shot, making metal flow down its chest like wax. Its next shot hit the _Schrek_ right in the middle of the turret, bending one of the laser barrels. The tank halted immediately, the crew suddenly more cautious.

"What is she talking about now?" Aoki asked.

"I have no idea." Thorn again blasted away with his autocannons, barely hitting the enemy. Looking beyond the battlefield, he finally saw the five enemy tanks coming down a distant hill, behind the second pair of mercenary 'Mechs. The support units he felt to be missing earlier.

"Daniel!" He called for the _Hollander II_ pilot. "Watch those tanks behind you!"

There was no time to confirm if the young Mechwarrior acknowledged the order. The _Masakari_ was again in the offensive. It was firing the PPCs continuously, certainly producing huge amounts of heat, risking engine meltdown. While his 'Mech rocked around him, Thorn only wished it would happen sooner rather than later, thus sparing him of keeping on with that duel. The Clanner was smart, though, controlling her rate of fire, managing the coolant, so he kept firing back. This time he used the large lasers mounted on the _Mauler_'s cylindrical forearms. One of the blue beams connected with the wing-like arm of the enemy machine, melting metal, but without breaching the thick armour. Thorn added the missile launchers to the volley, the explosions opening huge breaches in the weakened flank of the thing. The two assault BattleMechs were now involved in a private combat, oblivious to the bigger battle raging around them.

To Thorn's left, the _Marauder_ had fallen to its backward-bent knees, creating the oddly ridiculous sight of a huge monster sitting in the middle of a firefight, while leaking huge columns of greasy smoke. The _Thor_ had no chance to finish it, though. It was now fighting two _Demolisher_ tanks. Equipped with dual 200mm autocannons, the giant vehicles were just tearing it apart. Further beyond, the remaining _Uller_ got caught between a missile volley from the _Bushwacker_, and the _Hollander_'s pulse laser fire. In a turmoil of explosions and smoke, it had the legs and arms blown off, the cockpit bent inward, and the torso sliced front to back. The massive impact must have damaged the fusion engine inside, as in the next moment, what remained of the 30-ton machine exploded in an obfuscating flash, a million small pieces of metal flying into every direction.

The detonation was enough to call Thorn's attention back to the rest of the battle. He looked right in time to see the newly arrived Clan tanks opening fire over the _Hollander II_. Six sapphire laser beams connected with the 45-tonner's back, liquefying metal and making internal mechanisms explode. The 'Mech felt over its knees, already enveloped in flames.

"Damn you, Daniel!" The colonel groaned between his teeth. He disengaged from the _Masakari_, and strode forward in full throttle, passing by his enemy, who swung around, confused by the sudden change in her adversary's behaviour.

Thirty long range missiles flew right of the _Mauler_'s missile launchers, exploding around the enemy tanks. Still, they kept firing at the downed _Hollander II_. Missiles exploded against the shoulder armour and the exposed internal components. The flames grew bigger, and burbling coolant fluid gushed into the burned ground.

"Eject, Daniel!" This time Thorn was yelling openly in the Legion's comm. channel. It was obvious the _Hollander_ was lost. It had too little armour to withstand any kind of heavy beating, especially on the back. Given the state of the 'Mech, though, Thorn doubted that the young Mechwarrior was still listening to any radio chatter. Nonetheless, in the next moment, the cockpit cracked open, and the command chair ejected upward, like a missile.

Good.

The mercenary leader turned his attention to the Clan tanks. It was a heavy, a rectangular _Oro_, commanding a quartet of lighter _Ares_ tanks. All of them were heavy armed, if a little under armoured. Thorn fired his four autocannons against one of the rhombus-shaped _Ares_, penetrating the cracked armour with the azure beams of his large lasers. The machine caught fire immediately, out of commission. The remaining tanks rolled backwards, trying to aim at the new adversary, 90 tons of pure metal fury.

A second _Ares_ caught fire when hit by shoulder-launched missiles deployed by the assault infantry, hidden among the snow miraculously intact on the margin of the burning field of combat. The remaining tanks were hit by a salvo of missiles that seemed to come from nowhere. Thorn had a moment of confusion before remembering the _Partisan_ tanks and the laser-tag equipped scout infantry. They had been waiting for the right moment to intervene, and now they used it to the best effect. The infantry moved out of cover to finish the tanks and mop up any surviving crew.

And now only the _Masakari_ remained. Thorn was reminded of it when the _Mauler_ jumped forward, hit by the powerful PPCs he'd turned his back to. The massive BattleMech fell to one knee with a large thump. In the control panel, a bunch of red and yellow lights came to life, indicating a breach in the back armour, and damage to internal components.

"Curse you and your treachery, Freebirth!" The assault 'Mech's pilot yelled. "You will die by my hands, even if that is the last thing I do!"

But she wasn't able to deliver the killing blow. The _Bushwacker_ and the _Demolishers_ turned on her, blasting the lonely Clan 'Mech with missiles and heavy autocannon rounds. The powerful machine was torn apart. Thorn was finally able to bring the _Mauler_ to its feet, and turn to the wounded _Masakari_, now weirdly supporting itself over the crushed remains of one of its bird-like legs, and trying to get some footing with the other. The "wings" were also smashed, the PPC barrels bent in different directions.

"How dare you? We are your superior, mercenary!" Still defiant, the pilot seemed unwilling to stop taunting her enemies, although her voice now seemed tired, with a hint of disbelief. "You… You…" She must have seen the _Mauler_ raising his arms, making aim with the lasers. "You will meet our kind again, mercenary! This ignominy will not go unpunished…"

"Oh, shut up!" With those words, Thorn fired the lasers, shattering the flat canopy of the Clan 'Mech. The cockpit caught fire while the huge, ruined, mess that once was a mighty gear of war collapsed over the ground, sending torrents of snow and dirt in all directions, like waves on a beach.

* * *

The commander of the Thorn's Shadow Legion strode among the parked war machines, an infuriated expression on his scarred face. He stopped near a huge _Demolisher_ tank. Sergeant Saburo Aoki sat over the turret, watching the armoured infantry rounding up the captured Clan personnel. He looked down to Thorn as soon as he saw him.

"Ah, Will! We're almost done here."

The colonel crossed his arms. But he didn't look back at him, instead staring at a young man who was gazing at the burnt remains of the _Hollander_, on the other side of the valley.

"Casualties." Thorn asked, nonetheless.

"Seven dead, a few more wounded. The _Hollander II_ and the _Marauder_ aren't going anywhere, and the same goes for both _Schreks_. We also don't have the necessary equipment to take the _Masakari_ with us. I did put a few technicians scavaging for any useable part they could find."

"Right…" Thorn took a deep breath. Seven casualties. It wasn't much, considering they'd just faced a front-line Clan unit, but, still… those were people he knew, people under his command. Above him, over the tank's turret, Aoki followed his gaze, finding the young Mechwarrior lamenting his lost 'Mech.

"You going to kill him?"

"We shall see."

Thorn uncrossed his arms and approached the Mechwarrior.

"Daniel." The other man inhaled deeply, and then turned to face him. The colonel let a moment of awkward silence linger, before asking: "What were you thinking?"

Lieutenant Daniel Axon seemed to ponder his words for a moment.

"Sir… I…"

"You nothing!" Thorn cut his sentence and took a step forward. "I told you to pay attention to those tanks, and what did you do? You got blasted by them because of your recklessness!"

"Sir… If I may…"

"Go on…"

Daniel looked at his boots for a moment. When he glanced back at Thorn he said:

"There were enemy BattleMechs still operational on the field, so I decided that the tanks were the lesser threats and concentrated on the _Ullers_. The tanks didn't seem that important."

"The tanks, Lieutenant Axon, are a part of the field of combat. They might not have the mobility of a 'Mech but can be equally deadly. I've already seen men killed for lesser mistakes than the one you did!"

"Sir…?"

"You were stupid, do I make myself clear? I'll let you keep your job because I'm in a good mood, but don't test my patience ever again."

Daniel saluted, in a somewhat insecure manner. Good, Thorn thought, his words had hit dead centre.

"William!" Aoki's voiced called. The colonel turned to face him. "The scouts have seen a few Clan 'copters. We're done here, so I think it's better to get back to the barn."

"Right. Call the men!"

"Yes, sir."

Thorn started to move away, but then he hesitated, and turned back at Daniel. He was already running to hitch a ride in one of the APCs. The kid was an excellent pilot, but reckless, too eager to face other Mechwarriors, to find the perfect battle: that romantic ideal from to the ancient knighthood tradition which found its way into the minds of the modern men and women ruling the battlefield from atop their massive walking engines of death. Too much attached to something that, in the end, had nothing to do with the battlefield. War was death, no more, no less. 'Mech, tank, rifle, knife, hand… It didn't matter from where it would come, it only mattered that it was there, ready to reclaim those who made the deadly mistake, who were in the wrong place, who run out of luck…

Thorn whispered to himself, "Are you that eager to be a dead hero, kid?" With a last look at the rapidly assembling squadron, he ran back to his _Mauler_, to a legend that would probably never be told.


	2. Chapter 01

BOOK I

SOMEWHERE FAR BEYOND

* * *

ENTRY LOG 0343-07

USER(BOX) JOYEUSE to USER(BOX) SANGLAMORE

RECEIVED 05-14-3059

DECRYPTING

_Now that our foes have hurled themselves into their ambitious war against the Clans, I shall proceed to the next step of our plan. With these forces we mustered I will be able to retrieve the sacred knowledge those ignorant warmongers have right under their noses, unable to even dream of what it is!_

_Blasted creatures who born with impure… hearts! Out of wombs of metal and plastic! And they manage to think that they are the guardians of Humanity! They! It's us who are the the true and only guardians of our species! It's us who follow His words!_

_Oh, my love… Now that we are too far way for you to meddle with my mind I start to miss the pain and the buzz within my thoughts._

_Still, I will inform you, through this excuse of a comm. device, about each step of our holy mission, so we can better misinform our foes and organize the all-important extraction mission._

_I believe He would be pleased with us…_

ERASE? Y/N

* * *

I

"He's late…"

"Ah, relax, Will. You know how inconsiderate spooks can be. Just enjoy this place."

How could William Thorn relax? Nothing in that restaurant, or in that situation for that matter, gave him any reasons for such. Almost a full year had passed since his last encounter with the Jade Falcons, in Bucklands. Just a year, and so much had changed. His _Thorn's Shadow Legion_ hadn't met any Clanners since, having been busy in dealing with low-level bandits and garrisoning some unimportant – but dearly held - lodge here and there. Still, he was determined to face the outstanding foe again. His guts asked for it, his instincts told him that annihilating that menace to the whole Inner Sphere was of greater importance than anything else. Or maybe it was just the hatred talking, who knew…

In the end, looking at the tri-vid projector near the top of the farthest wall, over a happy family who seemed to care not for what the announcer was saying, Thorn kept seeing news updates about the recent invasion of Clan space by a multinational Inner Sphere force. It seemed the leaders of known space had decided to put their differences aside for once, and unite to destroy the vicious invaders. The target was Clan Smoke Jaguar, which had conquered a great part of the Draconis Combine, seven years before, and newscasts erupted in speculations about the possible intervention of other Clans on behalf of the Jaguars, and mostly, why they kept repose thus far. It seemed that no-one was willing to help then, and the invasion moved forward.

"Always thinking in the next fight, isn't it?" The woman at his side stated. "Oh, Will… Thank God one can be a mercenary in this universe of ours, or you would be a very bored man."

The grizzled veteran gave the elegant middle-aged woman of dark complexion an interrogative look.

"So I'm a warmonger?"

She didn't look at him, instead watching the wine swirling around in her glass as she stirred it gently.

"Take mind of that." She seemed a little too gleeful with the theme of the conversation. "I'm not the one looking at the newscast like I want to jump right into it."

Thorn grabbed his own cup of wine and downed the entire contents in a single gulp. And then he started coughing.

"Wow, Will! Take it easy! You're not a young man any more, okay?"

"Calm down, Amira, I'm not that old…" Thorn gently pushed her arms away, refusing her help. He also made a gesture to a table on the other side of the room, where Saburo Aoki and Daniel Axon stood, unnoticed in the featureless corner. They looked worried when they saw him cough, but choking on his drink was no reason to blow their disguise and the commander had certainly survived worse.

"And don't you forget why you're here, by the way…" He added, a little too coldly. Amira just straightened in her chair, arms crossed, her full lips twitching with annoyance.

"You're just the gentleman, Will. Invite a woman to hang out with you in a restaurant, and then you act all nice and fuzzy, thinking in wars and refusing a gentle touch…" She mover her eyes from his confused look to the entrance and added. "And I think your man is here."

The man entering the restaurant was not especially showy. Not handsome, and not bad-looking either, wearing a very casual outfit, like any normal person you would find in the street. Still, he had an aura of confidence around him, like someone who knows much more than he's willing to admit. A spook, but one only experienced eyes could discern as such. A good one.

He came directly to Thorn's table, smiling. Very politely, he asked permission to sit before pulling a chair.

"Ah, Colonel William Thorn." He said then, extending a hand. "Glad to finally meet you."

"And I'm glad you found this place." Thorn said in return. "It's not fancy, but it's cosy."

"I endorse that opinion." He turned to the woman. "And who's this lovely lady I don't have the pleasure of being acquainted with?"

"This is Amira Okoye, a long-term friend of mine."

The spook squeezed her hand very gently, while making the kindest of smiles.

"Delighted." Then he turned to Thorn, the grin always present. "Colonel Thorn, can't we talk in a more… private fashion?"

The mercenary commander smiled back at him.

"Why so, good sir? We are in such a good mood. And my friend here is a trusty guardian of several secrets of mine."

The ever present smile seemed to falter for an instant, but the man was quick to recover his mood.

"All right then. But you could make your two men in the other side of room join us here. They seemed quite lonely there and not as well accompanied."

"They like that corner." Thorn answered without hesitation. "But your two men behind me, they do seem quite neglected."

In the face of that acknowledgement of his surveillance team, the spook let out a short laugh. He seemed quite pleased with the fact.

"Sometimes I forget with who I'm dealing with." He lied. "All right, then. Let's play by your rules."

"First we need your name."

"Name's Heinrich Vogel, major." He supplied.

"Major of what?" Amira asked.

"That, dear lady, I can't tell. Not now."

It was a game, Thorn thought. The man was trying to show a position of dominance over the viewed employee, a usual approach. Unpredictable as they were, clients tended to keep mercenaries on a short leash, starting with the pre-contract contacts, showing who is the tool user and who the instrument. But Thorn hadn't survived all those years without learning a thing or two. And one of those things is that a mercenary should never let the employer decide everything. A lot of inexperienced soldiers of fortune died as a result of failing to properly manage their bond with their clients, allowing critical details and needs to go awry before missions were even started.

As such, he decided to go onto the offensive. He leaned back into the chair, relaxed, put an arm over Arima's shoulders, and smiled. He knew she would feel uneasy with that, but he wanted to put that Vogel guy off balance, show him he was also playing, but in a different style.

"Come on, major, throw us a bone here."

The grin weakened slightly as the spook leaned forward, looking directly to Thorn. Hit.

"Colonel Thorn… my organization is interested in hiring you because of your competent combat record and well-known animosity towards the Clans. Also, we know of your political ideals. Please don't make this difficult."

The mercenary hardened his expression.

"So you want someone who can put up a fight, and has plenty of spite to give to those Clanner animals."

"Indeed."

"And I presume we're talking about a dark operation here, so you want someone who's efficient in getting in and out, and can keep the mouth shut while at it. And, I bet, someone who holds the Lyran fist close to his hearth."

"That too."

Thorn grinned menacingly. Hit and hit again. Vogel seemed uneasy, even if only slightly. He knew he was losing the control of that fight. The mercenary would have things his way.

"I've worked with your organization before." Thorn acknowledged. He remembered a few missions over dark moons and into hostile worlds. Pain and exhilaration filled his mind for a moment, memories of battles long fought, and then he made them all go away. The moment called for all of his attention. "You do pay well."

"Glad you like our pay checks, mercenary." The spook said, back into the fray. "Interested in listening to what we have for you or do you only intend on playing these games with me?"

Time to change the strategy. Vogel was dead serious, Thorn suddenly noticed, with both hands over the table, like a good poker player. The mercenary straightened, taking his arm from Arima, and into the table. He'd made his point, no need to keep taunting the man.

"So… What do you have for me and my men?"


	3. Chapter 02

II

The downtown lights lent an eerie glow to the night, at least that's what William Thorn thought while looking through the blinds garnishing the window of that third story room. The city of Palos, capitol of the planet Fort Loudon, spread into the dark mist in the distance, right in front of him, the sounds of people walking and talking in the lively streets pouring through the walls and windows, along with sirens of ambulances and police cars, and the humming of skimmers and helicopters.

The mercenary took a gulp from the glass of brandy in his hands, his eyes lost in the distant darkness, the glow registering only in his peripheral conscience. A woman's voice called him back into the real world.

"You've changed so little, Will…" Arima said, rolling over the bed, to look at him. The room was dark, backlit by the glow of the streets. Looking back at her, Thorn only saw her silhouette against the slightly brighter wall. Shadows against shadows. But he could imagine her annoyed face. It was not the first time she'd made that remark. Even when both of them were ten years younger, ten years handsomer, ten years more distant from death…

"I'm older." He said, matter-of-factly. "I'm losing my touch."

She rolled again, this time to lie on her back, looking at the ceiling.

"What do you think?"

"What?..."

He heard her chuckle. Somehow, Thorn felt she was not that amused, really.

"What that man said… What do you think?"

Yeah… What did he think about that? The mercenary looked at the glass in his hands, the liquid content reflecting the outside lights in strange ways, like some magic mirror showing the shapeless horror of reality.

Heinrich Vogel had said nothing substantial. They had just laid down the general contract issues, payment, questions about transports and an agreement for Thorn to show up in a warehouse near the spaceport on the following day. All in all, the conditions were pretty generous. Of course, that would be something to frown upon. Too much of something was always a motive for caution. But, still…

"I've worked for Loki before…" He finally acknowledged. "You know that."

"Yes, I do…"

"And they were always generous, as long as I kept my mouth shut and got the job done."

"And that's why you told everything to me…" Arima said that with a slightly venomous tone, which made the observation even more ironic. The woman was not only a good friend of Thorn, or even slightly more than that, but also his insurance guarantee. She knew a lot of secrets, of a lot of people. And also profited a lot with them. If something went awry with any mission, the Thorn's Shadow Legion could always count on her to reveal any dirty secret she knew about the client. At least he liked to believe in that.

Of course, such dissuasion would never work with an organization like Loki, a counter-information agency, part of the Lyran Alliance Secret Services. In more practical terms, a government sponsored terrorist organization responsible for keeping a healthy sense of respect among the enemies of the Alliance. They also did a few operations related with information gathering, but only when violence was considered necessary or inevitable. At least that's how the story goes.

The sound of giggling female voices came from under the floor. In the rooms below, some of the girls of Arima's were entertaining a few clients. Earning their money, possibly taking a few secrets out of them, too. Thorn had already learned how to deal with those kinds of people.

"I'm actually worried, for some reason." Arima said, cutting the deep silence poised between them.

Thorn smiled, and finished his drink.

"Is this the part you beg me not to go?" He asked, with an ironic smile.

"Do I ever do that?"

"Not that I remember…" He walked to the bed, and sit over the mattress. Arima enveloped his waist with her arms, and kissed the scars on his flank.

"You always come back, no matter how difficult the situation is…" She let Thorn caress her thick hair for a moment, before adding: "If things turn desperate, you'll find a way out. You always do."

"It usually happens…"

"But this attraction of yours with war, Will… I cannot understand it."

Thorn smiled once more, extending one arm to put the empty glass over the bedside table.

"You shouldn't. You're a lover." He looked to the window one last time, before laying at her side. "If people like you understood why a man likes war… Humanity would no longer exist."


	4. Chapter 03

III

It was impossible not to notice the three dropships docked in the starport near the warehouse. Big angular hulls, with stubby wings and huge engine nozzles in the extremity of the aerodyne fuselages, those ships were able to carry entire armies within. Lieutenant Daniel Axon had no doubts that those would be their transports in that operation. It only remained to be seen what the mission would be, and what Heinrich Vogel was so interested in showing them before the briefing.

"I'm actually quite happy that you agreed to this mission, Colonel, especially taking into account how little we told you about it." The spook said, from the front passenger seat. Colonel William Thorn, Master Sergeant Saburo Aoki and Daniel Axon were in the back of the vehicle, waiting for what would follow.

"Is always a pleasure to work for you organization, Mister Vogel." Thorn said, seemingly very relaxed.

"That's good to know."

To Daniel, that remark seemed creepily honest. He had been with the Legion for more than a year, and fought some difficult battles, including his disastrous battle debut during the campaign in Bucklands. Most missions were assigned by Loki, the conditions dependent heavily upon their immediate aims, but not a single time had they kept so much secrecy about it as they were doing now. They hadn't even officially acknowledged their identity yet, leaving the Legion to guess if those people were really from the Lyran Alliance Secret Services. Thorn seemed quite sure, but that didn't encourage the young Mechwarrior.

The skimmer finally stopped in front of the warehouse entrance. The huge 'Mech-sized gates were almost closed, leaving just a small gap through only one person could go at a time. Heinrich Vogel asked the mercenaries to follow him on foot.

Two persons waited for them near the slit in that huge entrance. One of them was a middle-aged man, slightly younger than Thorn, dressed in casual clothing. It wasn't hard for Daniel to guess he was wearing a gun under the coat. He didn't need to see it, the man's attitude said it all. At his side was a woman, in a very formal navy uniform, dark-gray and red. The Mechwarrior had never seen that kind of uniform before, but he believed it should be from a private company. A mercenary, probably associated with those ships in the starport.

Vogel placed himself between her and Thorn and made the introductions.

"Colonel William Thorn, this is Captain Eva van Brisbroek from Dark Aeons Private Transports. She will be in command of your transports for this mission." The spook then turned to the woman. "Captain van Brisbroek, Colonel William Thorn of Thorn's Shadow Legion."

Both mercenary commanders squeezed hands.

"So you'll be the ground pounders for this operation. Hope you don't turn on us."

"Really?" Thorn answered to Capitan van Brisbroek sarcasm with some of his own. "And I really hope you don't leave us stranded in the ground."

"I usually don't do that."

"Miss, Misters, if you please." The spook asked the mercenaries to follow him into the warehouse, escorted by the undercover guard. Inside were a bunch of technicians going back and forth, making the final adjustments to a pair of BattleMechs resting between the maintenance scaffolds. One of them was rather small, looking like a headless bird, with reverse knee joints and wing-like weapon mounts. The machine had a very striking look, but nothing as impressive as the other one, a huge giant of metal, looking massive with its wide and stubby humanoid legs, and boxy torso, presenting a massive gun on each side of the cockpit, a heavily-framed window placed in the foremost part of the huge hull. Measuring a full 11 meters in height, the thing surely was a 100-ton assault 'Mech. Daniel realized he knew neither that model, nor the smaller one, and both machines had fresh paint on them. Brand-new BattleMechs, surely very expensive and never tested on the battlefield. The spook politely asked for a moment, and then walked to the nearest technician, to tell him something.

"So..." Van Brisbroek murmured to Thorn, after making sure Vogel couldn't hear her. "First time with Loki?"

"I wish..." The colonel answered. "You?"

"Been in some tight spots. Returned every time."

"With your troops?"

"Always."

"Good."

The short conversation stopped there as Vogel was coming back.

"Colonel Thorn, I must tell you that the mission we have for you and your men is of great importance for us. As such, we will also give these two 'Mechs to your unit. See them as a further demonstration of our commitment to your success."

The mercenary leader glanced at the big machines of war.

"I believe I'm not familiar with these specific models, Major Vogel."

"Those..." The spook said. "Are brand-new machines. Prototypes we brought from Tarkhad."

"Prototypes?" Thorn had reasons to be worried. New equipment always had issues, always. Was it a badly built joint never tested to its real limits, a misplaced electronic device, or faulty manufacture in an inexperienced production line, among a whole lot of other things. Prototypes were even worse with a much higher rate of failure here and there.

"I understand your worries, colonel." Vogel assured. "But I was assured most issues had already been worked out. And also, I believe that the surprise effect these machines will have in your opponents compensates the inherent problems."

"Maybe..."

"Anyway. They will be moved to Van Brisbroek's ships this night. And I would like to bring in Thorn's Shadow Legion assets too."

"You seem to be in a hurry."

"We are. I will be honest to you, colonel. We at Loki happen to know that the war is not going well and we need to get an edge over our enemies, fast. This operation will permit that."

Thorn crossed his arms, inquisitive.

"The news casts seemed to tell that we are crushing the Smoke Jaguars."

"As you know, I'm not allowed to give you further information now, colonel. I'm sorry. But we need to get moving as fast as we can." He looked around, to the 'Mechs and the people moving around them. "I'll give you the full details when we are of the ground."

Only then? Daniel felt his throat dry, as a very bad feeling crept up his conscience. What were they getting into?


	5. Chapter 04

IV

Everything rocked and growled around him, as flames licked the transparent canopy on the outside, and the control panel inside came alive with warning signs and navigational advices. Holding to the control stick and throttle pad, Star Captain Farn Jorgensson kept the big aerospace fighter under control, the shaking around him and the alerts calmly delivered by the on-board computer not-withstanding. He knew how to control a fighter, that was his life, the reason why he existed.

Beyond the tight cockpit, the upper atmosphere rolled by, the friction against the 85-ton heavy fuselage spawning flames that spread like if cast by a blowtorch. The horizon, so far away, was an arched wonder of incredibly detailed scenery, blue oceans rolling into irregular coastal regions which gave way to brown deserts, deep-green forests and white mountains. Clouds hovered over it all, in their glory of different tones of gray and blue, a slender aura of pure sapphire enveloping it all, and the deep, eternal, darkness of the infinite space above. Unfortunately, even if Farn Jorgensson could see all of that natural glory through the flames, he was too occupied struggling with his machine to give it any thought.

He knew that the particular _Xerxes_ he was flying had a few individual perks, some bizarre ways of behaving that old machines seem to develop as time passes them by. Still, it was the only one of its kind available in the system and Farn Jorgensson preferred using the heavier types, sacrificing agility for armour and firepower. And the _Xerxes_ packed some powerful weapons, a 185mm autocannon in each wing root and a couple large lasers in the nose, and he wanted to have that power available in the event of a fight. Because a fight would happen, eventually; that was the way of the Clans.

Alas, that preference let him with that lonely old machine.

Farn felt the shaking start to smooth up, the flight turning more stable, and a slight tendency for rolling to the right disappearing as the thicker atmosphere started to flow under the angular wings of the fighter. The flames over the canopy had also disappeared, and the clean sky over that continent allowed for an incredible sight over the fields and towns below. He made the fighter move in ample arcs in the sky, zigzagging to test the flight surfaces. The machine responded more sluggishly, without the fast changes of trajectory the manoeuvring puffers allowed in the vacuum of space. And the unnerving rolling was still felt, although less pronounced. He would have the ground crews about that once he landed.

"Control, this is Delta Lead, requesting permission to land on Valladolid Base." He asked over the comm. The voice on the other side took a few seconds to answer, but did it in a professional, irreprehensible, manner.

"Delta Lead, this is Valladolid base, you have permission to land on strip two. The sky is clear and the wind weak, coming from the southeast."

"Acknowledged, Delta Lead out."

The fighter pilot looked South, taking a short glimpse of the area he was flying over. In a few minutes, he went from a somewhat green area, covered with grain fields and sparse villages, to a much dryer region, of scrubby vegetation and small rocky hills. The perfect place for an old-fashioned battle among Clanners. This made him recall…

"Control, 88th Trinary training exercise is still ongoing, quiaff?"

"Aff, Delta Lead. We do not know the progress, though."

"Understood. I will have a look. Take notice that I will delay my landing and inform them of my arrival, coming from North."

"Acknowledged, Delta Lead."

After giving a last check to his fuel levels, low but enough for what he wanted to do, Farn changed course, and flew southward. The land below him became even more arid, rocky hills following each other like waves. The 'Mechs weren't too far away. Tilting his fighter until it was almost flying sideways, giving him the best angle to look at the entire horizon, Farn made a wide arch, slowing down so he could concentrate on the simulated combat below for a few minutes. From his bird-eye perspective, he could see perfectly the trio of Clan-made OmniMechs waiting over a wide hill, and the four Spheroid BattleMechs walking on a valley, still invisible to them, but evident to the fighter pilot.

The BattleMechs were old machines, captured during the invasion of that world by the Ghost Bears, seven years ago, and were being piloted by the instructors for that particular exercise, a dark-green _Warhammer_ leading the charge. The machine had been the personal 'Mech of the commander of the defending force, who had died valiantly facing the invaders. The Clan took her sacrifice and combat prowess in high regard, and repaired the _Warhammer_ to be used in training exercises like this one, a reminder of the surprises the Spheroids could give to the superior Clan warriors. Something Farn had very present in his spirit.

Swiftly, the instructor lance reached the natural ramp that lead to the wide hill. Without hesitation, the four machines charged upward, directly into the trainee star. That was not a usual Freebirth tactic. They were more sneaky and treacherous, not very given to honourable stands like that one. It happened, but not very often. Facing the enemy head-on, in a truly warrior fashion, was more akin to Clan warriors. Nonetheless, the leading OmniMech moved forward to face the _Warhammer_ as soon as it reached the top of the ramp. A _Timber Wolf_, known in the Inner Sphere as a _Mad Cat_, it was more than a match to the inferior BattleMech. Weighting 75 tons, and looking like a wild beast, with backward-bent knees, wing-like arms equipped with lasers, boxy missile launchers over the shoulders and dome-shaped cockpit, it was capable of devastating the _Warhammer_ in minutes. Farn was starting his second ring when he noticed the other two OmniMechs running to face the remaining Spheroid 'Mechs. Those were more evenly matched: a crab-like _Black Lanner_ facing an egg-shaped _Catapult_, and a _Mad Dog_ contending with a _Marauder_. In those terms, the Clanners could easily crush their opponents. Down there, the six machines engaged in a strange dance, their weapons silent. It was only an exercise, so the on-board computers reacted accordingly with the hits they should be receiving, the war machines having their weapons disabled. The experienced eye could still notice the small details that hinted the course of the fight.

And the experienced eyes of Farn noticed something that made his blood boil in anger. The last instructor was keeping himself out of the fray. The small _Raven_ wouldn't be of much use in the firefight, but its electronic suites and Narc launcher could help the remaining lance by interfering with the enemy sensors and help his companions aim with more precision. It was a dishonourable way to fight, but that was how the Spheroids did it. Only those supposed Spheroids were not behaving like such, fighting according to the way of the Clans, in honourable fashion, without tricks.

Worst, Farn knew who ordered that. Having seen enough, Farn Jorgensson levelled the _Xerxes_ and flew away, straight to the airbase. He had someone to talk to.


	6. Chapter 05

V

Valladolid Base was only a secondary compound when Clan Ghost Bear descended over Ardoz and took the planet from the Draconis Combine. Being the nearest installation to the most important thing on that world, it was quickly transformed into the headquarters for the new owners of Ardoz. A new runway was added to the undersized one that already existed, and a small city of unimaginative square buildings grew behind the control tower. Hangars for 'Mechs and aircraft, administrative buildings, barracks, communication arrays, bunkers, and so on, filled the place. On other side of the base a landing pad for dropships had been added, a big ovoid one occupying it at that moment.

It was something a good warrior could be proud off, and although the climate was dry and unpleasant, living there was not that bad. The ground crews, members of the technical caste, were quick to deploy once the big _Xerxes_ fighter descended over the runway. There was no alarm, no rush, they were just professional that way. As the war machine was moved into the apron, the canopy opened and a stair was placed under it. Without a word, Farn Jorgensson descended from the cockpit and strode away, to the surprise of the crew members who noticed it. The chief technician approached the warrior, trying to keep pace with him.

"Star captain, sir?" He asked, humbly.

"Yes, technician?" Farn spat, without looking at him, his hands occupied taking the gloves out.

"How is the fighter behaving, sir?"

"The usual… Still rolling to the right." Without stopping he looked back to the technician. "You must inspect it more thoroughly."

"Yes, sir."

"I will make a detailed report later." The fighter pilot just kept walking, again gazing forward as if he wanted to blow holes in the nearby walls just by looking at them. The chief technician realized he wouldn't say anything else, so he lagged behind, and finally stopped near the wall of one of the big hangars.

"Understood…" he mumbled.

Farn Jorgensson, though, had just entered one of the big administrative buildings, without even giving a second thought to the man's questions. He knew they were important, and the man needed to know what to do to put the fighter in complete combat readiness. But that was only a secondary worry for the Star Captain. At that moment, he was more worried with the whole Cluster's combat readiness.

He made a quick pause in the restroom, to change the flight suit for his daily uniform, and then walked back to the corridors only stopping when he found the cabinet of his direct superior. And he lost no time knocking at the door either.

"Come in." A deep voice said from inside the room. A voice Farn knew all too well. He promptly entered, closing the door behind him.

Like everything with the Clans, the cabinet was simplistically furnished, only the essential being allotted, and nothing else. A couple bookcases filled with important documentation, a desk, and three chairs. There was also a small drink cabinet hidden in the corner, near the big window in the farthest wall. A small luxury so many Clanner officers granted themselves.

"Ah, Star Captain Farn Jorgensson." The big man in the middle of the room said. The fighter pilot saluted Star Colonel Chou Vong, keeping his face dead serious. Being an elemental, a special kind of infantry soldier, specially bred to use the heavy Clan battle suits, Vong was very tall and muscular, a truly menacing figure, looking capable of crushing Jorgenson as if his bones were dry branches. In that comparison, the slender figure of the fighter pilot didn't help either.

"Star colonel, I need to talk to you with extreme urgency."

Chou Vong stood still, looking down to Farn, his right hand over the wrist computer. He didn't like to have him there, that was easy to see in his eyes. But the pilot didn't like to be in that man's presence either. Their relationship hadn't been easy, especially since their unit, the 68th Striker, was transferred to Ardoz after the Tukayyid disaster.

"I am slightly busy now, Star captain."

"And I am extremely worried."

The elemental snorted.

"Very well. You have five minutes."

"I saw the 88th practising nearby, Star colonel. I would like to ask why my recommendations have not been taken into account, sir."

Vong crossed his arms, as if expecting Farn to say something else. As the silence grew longer and both men kept staring at each other, the Star colonel came to the conclusion that he should speak.

"So, Star captain… You are talking about the recommendations to make us the same barbaric and honourless filth as our Freebirth enemies?"

So, Farn thought, that rhetoric again…

"My recommendations, sir, imply that, in order to better face our Spheroid enemies, we should adapt new tactics. A planet as close to the border as Ardoz should employ a defensive strategy consistent with that reality."

"We are a strong Clan, Star captain!" Vong leaned slightly forward, while still looking down, as if to point out his obvious superior height. "And what you are suggesting is employing the tactics of those barbarians that forced the Truce of Tukayyid on us. Now that Khan Bjorg Jorgensson decided to relocate all our assets to the Inner Sphere, we must hold to our traditions, if we want to avoid being tainted by the habits of that Freebirth scum on the other side of the border."

In a way, Vong had a point.

The debacle at Tukayyid, which destroyed any hope of the Clans achieving a fast victory and conquer the holy Terra, was a turning point for Clan Ghost Bear. Considered the mightiest of the invading armies, its Touman accomplished only a draw against the Spheroid forces in that battle, and that made many rethink their views about the invasion. What was once the holiest of missions, was suddenly put into question, as the deaths and, more importantly, the humiliations grew in number.

As time passed by, the whole situation severely destabilized Clan politics. Even more, there was the question about what contact with Spheroid culture meant to their own. Farn understood that, and he was even sympathetic with the attempts at keeping Clan Ghost Bear true to the way of the Clans. But he was also a practical man.

"Star colonel…" Farn inhaled deeply, trying to contain his rage at his superior's inability to comprehend his opinion. "While our current training gives us the necessary strength to face other Clans, it prevents us from developing the tactical flexibility to face the Spheroids. I must insist…"

"You are dismissed, Star captain." Vong's kept his thunderous voice at its lowest tone, menacing.

"Star colonel…"

"Farn Jorgensson!" The elemental cut him off before he could say anything else. Now he looked truly furious, and surely wasn't in the mood to keep going with that conversation. "I have read your recommendations and deemed them unsuitable for this Cluster. We will remain true to the spirit of the Clans, and we will fight with honour, even against any Freebirth scum that might dare to invade this world. If you are that keen to disagree, then you can face me in a Trial."

Both men spent the following moments just staring at each other, predators measuring each other. Although Vong was much bigger than Farn, the fighter pilot was a true air jockey of his Clan, trained in various arts of martial combat. Could be terribly dangerous in hand-to-hand combat, even when facing an elemental. But a victory in such a match was still a vague possibility, and it would gain the Cluster nothing. In the end Farn swallowed his pride and said:

"That will not be necessary, sir."

"Good… I was in no mood to have this conversation again, Star captain." The leader of that planet's defences uncrossed his arms, slightly less tense. "You are dismissed."

Knowing there was nothing else to gain there, Farn saluted and left the room. But his fury still burned inside.

"That man is going to have us all killed if something comes to pass." He mumbled to himself. "This is not over yet…"


	7. Chapter 06

VI

Smoke and fire.

The town seemed to just burst into flames while the fight raged on, and all hell was set loose.

Thundering through the eerily empty streets were the attacking BattleMechs, part of a battered unit now making the final push to liberate the whole planet of Port Arthur from the occupation of Clan Smoke Jaguar. Smouldering wounds in the armoured torsos stood as a testimony of their first contact of the night, a couple of light vehicles entrenched in the sports camp of an abandoned school. Regardless of the few hits they scored, they were no match for both 70-ton walking war machines. Followed by the APCs carrying the support infantry, they walked over the charred hulls and proceeded into the town, their big feet crushing the tarmac.

Leading the charge was Colonel Arthur Cassini, a middle-aged nobleman from the distant world of Galatia III, located on the other side of the Inner Sphere, almost as distant as it could be. Riding beside him, on his captured Clanner _Nova Cat_ OmniMech was his second-lieutenant, Major Antonios Kyrgiakos. They were part of a battalion from the elite 1st Davion Guards unit dropped on the planet weeks before in order to disrupt Smoke Jaguar command and control, make them deaf and blind. Despite a heavy cost in equipment and personnel, they'd succeeded, and now, the remaining companies were making a coordinated attack on three different starports to open the way for the invading army that would finish what they'd started.

Mindful of that fact, the Smoke Jaguars spared no expense in defending the expected landing zones, and the small town of Redstone was no exception.

Arthur stopped near an intersection, and laid his prototype _Thanatos_ OmniMech's back against a huge apartment building, while he made a short assessment of the situation. The streets were eerily empty, the whole place having become a ghost town since the Jaguars evacuated it in anticipation for the Davion assault. The sensors in his 'Mech detected the flashes that illuminated the moonless night on the other side of the town. While his small task force attacked the starport in the centre of Redstone directly, the rest of the company was staging a decoy strike to the local Jaguar headquarters in the town hall. Being also a very important target, probably more important even than the starport, it was expected that the enemy would divert the bulk of his forces to defend it. Especially taking into account that it would permit them to face most of the 'Mech force that had been laying waste to their assets on the continent for the last few weeks.

"Lobo One, this is Anvil, please report." Calling the decoy force Lobo One, the command code for the company, was another way of making the Jaguars think that was, in fact, the main attack, if they, somehow, intercepted the radio chatter.

"Anvil, this is Lobo One." The voice of Major Jazebel Solá took a little too much time to respond. Arthur knew they would be in deep trouble once the enemy started to send everything it had at them. Regardless, the landings had to take place, or everything up that point would have been in vain. "Situation a little hairy. Enemy sending additional 'Mechs and tanks. I don't know if we can make it to the hall."

_A little hairy…_ Everything was going to hell then. The Jaguars were behaving even more enthusiastically than he'd expected. Why wouldn't they? The decoy strike started before Arthur and Antonios made their move, and the word that the Spheroid 'Mechs were presenting themselves for the slaughter must have spread pretty fast. By sticking to their old-fashioned traditions, the Clanners were making Anthur's mission much easier.

The same couldn't be said for Jazebel and her forces. She was commanding the charge with her heavily scarred _Bushwacker_, accompanied by Master Sergeant Pavlos de Cyrrhus's captured _Shadow Cat_ and First Sergeant Jan Mrkos _Uziel_. All medium 'Mechs, powerful and agile enough to face most opponents in the open, but too light to withstand the savage close quarters of urban combat. For support, they only had the remaining infantry available. They had no chance of winning that fight, especially once the Jaguars started to send their heavy and assault 'Mechs and elite infantry against them. Still, they had their mission to perform, and supporting the landings was more important than anything else. Arthur gave the order.

"Proceed. And bring down as many of them as you can."

Jazebel Solá took a few seconds to answer. When she did, her voice was tense and somewhat shaky.

"Understood."

And there was nothing else to say. Colonel Cassini took a good look at the few units of his small strike force. Antonios _Nova Cat_ kneeled in the centre of the intersection, alert to any hostile movements, and the APCs loaded with infantry parked by the nearby buildings.

"How long 'til they touch the ground?" Antonios asked. Arthur looked at the countdown timer on his control console.

"Twenty minutes."

"We're on tight schedule, then…"

"Tell me about it…" The commanding officer mumbled to himself. Then, in a loud, commanding tone, he gave the orders to press on. "Let's go..."

There was no time to waste, and no reason to hide. The force moved inward, passing by the habitation buildings, into a warehouse area. The big structures dwarfed even the mammoth 'Mechs, and the dark spaces between them could easily hide any powered down enemy unit, thus concealing it from any detection equipment, until they had their prey in sight, and it was too late to do anything…

Suddenly a voice erupted through Arthur's headphones. A voice full of pride and arrogance, from someone who knew his entire life was devoted to that single moment.

"Ah, the famous little Davion mice! You have come really far, and revealed yourselves worthy opponents indeed! Now let me crush you and earn the glory for your destruction!"

"That was pleasant." Antonios asserted. The sensors showed two contacts coming from directly ahead, entering the maze between the buildings. Three more stayed put near the anti-aircraft turrets, in the open space between the town and the starport proper. "What now?"

"We improvise. Follow me!"

Arthur moved northward, avoiding the incoming contacts. When he found a street going directly to the small buildings near the landing pad, he pressed the speed pedal, sending the _Thanatos_ into full throttle, 86 kilometres per hour.

"Follow me! Go! Go! Go!"

Both BattleMechs erupted from the line of buildings, into the open space beyond. There, the optical sensors could easily pick the three nearby enemy units, presenting a tactical scheme in the control panel. Three _Morrigu_ assault tanks. The other contacts were still lost between the warehouses.

"You avoid me, Freebirth scum!" Came the voice again. "Damn you! You should not enjoy the honour of just combat. Just die like the filth you are!"

"Infantry! Avoid the tanks" Arthur ordered. "Go directly to the turret control building and take control of them. If you can't, just blow them up skyhigh!"

The men in the APCs acknowledged the orders, freeing Arthur and Antonios to face the tanks. Those were already moving, turning their turrets to face the 'Mechs. Usually, Clan tanks were lightly armoured, crewed by Freebirths and old warriors, and used only for fire-support duties. The _Morrigu_ were different. Very well-armoured and well armed, they were more than a match for the usual Mechwarrior and his ride. Arthur and Antonious had to give them no quarter, destroy the damn things as fast as possible.

The colonel hadn't just charged directly into them, though. That would expose him to the large lasers and heavy long-range missile launchers equipping each enemy unit. The _Thanatos_ was equipped with an advanced ECM suite, that jammed enemy radars, so he would have a good margin to come as close as possible before the _Morrigu_'s started firing. So, he moved into a slight arc first perpendicular, and then right into the line of tanks. As they tried to aim at the incredibly aggressive lonely 'Mech closing in, Antonios could use the awesome long-range firepower of his _Nova Cat_ to harass them as much as possible.

Two gleaming particle beams from the _Cat_'s left arm smashed into the heavily armoured front of one of the _Morrigu_'s, making metal boil and explode, and rain over the tarmac like overheated hail. The machine stopped on its tracks, and moved the turret to the other side, searching for this new enemy. Two laser beams, these coming from the triple pack that was the _Cat_'s right arm, stroke into the shimmering scar, cutting deep in the tank's structure, melting metal like if it was wax. Pouring smoke, the _Morrigu_ just sat there, motionless.

Meanwhile, the other two tanks fired their double-barrelled lasers, making scorch marks along the wide torso of the _Thanatos_. The roughly-humanoid 'Mech strode over the puddles of molten metal in its wake, trying to get closer. His enemies then fired their missiles, sixty projectiles taking flight in a cloud of dark smoke. Knowing that he had no chance of avoiding that, Arthur changed strategy and charged right into the volley. Missiles flew past him, others smashed into the damaged torso without exploding and a few more did indeed blasted away chunks of armour. Red and yellow lights came to life on the control panel, but it didn't matter. He was now close enough to bring his powerful weaponry to bear. Raising both arms, swollen with gun barrels and missile tubes, the _Thanatos_ unleashed a wall of short-range missiles and armour piercing pellets. The turret of the closest _Morrigu_ exploded when the left missile launcher received a direct hit, hurling swirling pieces of splintered metal in all directions.

Although heavily damaged, the tank was not defeated yet. It moved backwards, launching short-range missiles from its side launchers. A few struck the legs of the heavy 'Mech, that kept hitting its closest adversary with the medium pulse lasers mounted in the left arm, under the massive 200mm LBX-class autocannon, and in both sides of the chest. The damaged _Morrigu_ just kept rolling backwards, until it hit a small building, which promptly collapsed around its back. Immobile, that machine was clearly out of commission. Arthur turned to the last tank.

Two sapphire beams melted metal on the left shoulder of the _Thanato_s, spilling it to the ground. Fortunately for the Inner Sphere warrior, the thing was too close to make use of its long-range missiles, the infamous LRMs, deadly at longer ranges. He, on the other hand, was close enough to use both his main weapons. In a show of incredible precision, Arthur smashed the large laser barrels with a crushing hit from the autocannon. A dozen SRMs exploded over the tank's armour and in the ground around it. The lasers kept blasting small chunks of metal with their strange, pulsating, sequence of beams, too fast for the naked eye to be able to discern individual shots. And while he kept harassing his enemy, Arthur also demanded greatly from his machine's engine and components, making the internal temperature rise madly. He was already sweating heavily, and a few alarms whistled warnings of overheating and burned electronics.

Antonios' _Nova Cat_ manoeuvred closer to the tanks while Arthur traded shots with them. He crushed the turret of the machine he'd disable earlier with one of his 'Mech's huge feet, just to make sure it was finished, and then turned his weapons to the last of the _Morrigus_. Caught between both fires, the assault tank was torn apart. When one of the tracks was hit and collapsed, the crew must have thought that was their call, and tried to run away from the doomed machine. Arthur saw a few men squeeze their bodies through the damaged hatches, in desperate panic, probably fearful that he or Antonios would shoot at them. He didn't do that, of course. But the burning machine was done for. One of the crew members tried to escape through a bent hatch on the side of the tank, twitching desperately, while the whole thing burned around him. Then the flames reached the ammunition storage, and the _Morrigu_ disappeared in a pillar of flames.

Although sealed inside his hot cockpit, Arthur felt a shiver. What a way to go…

"Arthur." Antonios said, over them comm. "Company."

The Davion colonel turned his 'Mech to face the remaining units of that star, coming from the nearby warehouses. He felt another shiver, when he saw that they were two enemy BattleMechs, including a huge feral-looking machine he had never seen before. The thing had two huge cannons hanging over the rounded torso, pointing directly at him.

"Now, Freebirth scum…" That voice, that arrogant voice, manifested itself again. "DIE!"

And both cannons fired.


	8. Chapter 07

VII

Arthur Cassini had a wife and two sons, waiting for him, back in Galateia III.

Fátima was the love of his life, daughter of a proud knight of House Davion, like Arthur. They met while still very young, and, even then, the young boy knew he wanted to be a warrior, carrying the golden sun and sword of the Federated Suns over his chest, and over the hull of his BattleMech. With Fátima, he had two sons, Francis, the eldest, intelligent and prudent, who honoured his warrior legacy, but desired to be a politician, and John, the youngest, reckless and exuberant, so eager to learn how to pilot a 'Mech as Arthur himself was when he had been the same age. Two sons so different, but who made him proud in equal ways. And a wife who carried with him the hardships of a life in the army. He would never be capable of expressing the gratitude he had to her, and how much he loved her. Never…

And, still, when Prince Victor Steiner-Davion, ruler of the Federated Commonwealth, came to Galatia III and asked for him to command a company of the 1st Davion Guards in an almost suicidal mission behind enemy lines, he'd accepted without hesitation. And why had he done that? He was nearing his 50s, had a family to take care of, and knew that Fátima would resent that decision, even if she never said it directly. He would leave that family behind, probably never to come back…

Why?...

_Why…?_

_Fátima…_

_What is that sound?..._

The warning whistled right into his ears, piercing his drums painfully.

With a sudden realization, he remembered the battle, the Smoke Jaguars, the landing dropships, and the savage BattleMech. He struggled to raise the _Thanatos_, which spun and smashed into the ground when hit by both magnetic cannons mounted over the shoulders of the enemy assault 'Mech. In a few seconds, that seemed like an eternity, he managed to bring the machine to its knees, then wasting no time in twisting the torso to see how the battle was going.

Antonios _Nova Cat_ had walked past him, hiding behind a nearby building, while trading shots with the huge unknown machine, and a smaller and nimbler _Cougar_, a squat 35-ton bird-looking OmniMech. The _Cat_ already displayed some damage, pouring smoke from a huge gash over the right torso, and smaller scars over the chest and shoulders. For some reason, Arthur realized he had passed out for just a few seconds. The battle was still fresh, and the incoming army was still a few minutes away. He brought the _Thanatos_ to its feet and charged into the nearest 'Mech, the big, scary, monster.

"Hammer, report!" He called for the infantry team, fighting to take control of the anti-aircraft towers, looming near the landing pads.

"Still fighting to enter the control room." Someone said from the other side. "They are well entrenched."

"If you cannot, just blow everything up."

"Just four more minutes."

"Two!"

And then the assault 'Mech turned to face him, probably having suddenly realized he was back into the fray. There was no more time for words, and, thankfully, Arthur was close enough to use the autocannon.

The huge thing staggered sideways when its right shoulder was pierced by a wall of pellets. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough to penetrate all the way through, although it put it off balance. Arthur came even closer and unleashed the missiles. The monster's chest seemed to boil under the explosions, which gave the colonel a shimmer of hope. And then the thing proceeded to shrug the smoke away with a motion of its damaged arm, again turning the fearsome weaponry to the _Thanatos_.

Arthur slid sideways, evading both rounds hurled at hypersonic speeds by the magnetic coils of the gauss rifles. The lasers, though, managed to burn away some hundreds of kilos of armour, and even burning the structure under the huge hole now garnishing the right side of the torso. New lights appeared over the control panel, mostly red. Although still able to move and fight, the OmniMech was terribly damaged.

The voice from that thing's pilot came laughing over the open channels.

"You should have kept lying over your face, Spheroid!"

There was no point in facing those 'Mechs in the open. They were still fairly undamaged and outgunned the Davion machines in every respect. Arthur didn't even halt for a second, he simply passed by the assault 'Mech, and kept running at full speed. Time to change the strategy once again.

"Antonios! Into the town!"

The _Nova Cat_ followed him, and both OmniMechs disappeared into the streets darkened by the night. The walls around them exploded when the shots fired by the Smoke Jaguar 'Mechs missed their mark.

"Ah, _surats_ you are! Hiding instead of facing me face-to-face!"

The man now seemed quite enraged. Regardless, he followed them, with the _Cougar_ right behind him. Time to prepare them a surprise.

"Spread." Antonios promptly obeyed, disappearing in a dark alley to the left. Arthur cut to his right, going around a huge warehouse, while the Clanners tried to understand what were they up to. He purposely kept his instructions to the minimum. Kyrgiakos had a phenomenal warrior instinct, and in that desperate situation he preferred to let him improvise and do what he thought best. Trust his friend.

He finished going around the building, emerging in the avenue from a street a few hundred meters behind the monstrous 'Mech. The _Cougar_ was nowhere to be seen, probably it went after the _Nova Cat_. In any case, the improvised manoeuvre hadn't caught the Jaguar by surprise. He was already turning back when Arthur aimed the big weapons in his _Thanatos_ arms, the red visor in the front of the lowered head appearing between the arm and the gun over the shoulder, as if looking back at him through the dark. Undaunted, Arthur opened fire, blasting the rear armour of that machine and the facades of the nearby buildings with a ring of fire and smoke. The assault 'Mech staggered forward while the rubble cascaded into the street, the right arm turned to the ground, spilling sparks as if they were its fiery blood. And, still, that Mechwarrior somehow managed to cross the left arm over the chest and fire back at the _Thanatos_, one turquoise laser beam burning the armour over the legs, the other digging a hole into another building.

The best warriors in the galaxy indeed.

And then the monster also disappeared into one of the smaller streets between the buildings, turning Arthur's plan against him. Undeterred, he moved forward into a parallel street while his weapons reloaded and he thought about his next move.

As soon as he found a corner, Arthur turned at full speed, demolishing a few balconies with the broad shoulders of his machine. The dark creature he was facing was already in the other tip of that street, searching for him. The Davion Mechwarrior fired first, though. Twelve short range missiles flew from his right arm, turning more facades into rubble and chipping away more armour from the big machine, while the autocannon tore a big hole into the other side of the arched torso. The Jaguar fired back with the lasers mounted in his functional arm, adding the missile launcher under the cockpit right after. The beams of pure light melted away the armour over the left side of the _Thanatos_' torso and one of the missiles penetrated, destroying the medium pulse laser mounted there. Time to keep moving!

While it moved into a new alley, Arthur noticed his 'Mech was answering more sluggishly to his controls. A myriad of red lights over the control panel indicated the destroyed systems, even the vital ECM suite was gone, and he was down to a single pulse laser rounding the two big weapons, now low on ammunition. More critical were the warnings about destroyed heat sinks and coolant tubing. The _Thanatos_ was reaching serious heat levels, and Arthur almost fainted once. Adding to it all, most of the armour plating over the chest was gone, giving the war machine the sorry look of a skinned, eviscerated, animal.

The final clash happened in the following turn. Arthur cut through a secondary street, going all the way back into the main avenue. As expected, the Smoke Jaguar followed. He hoped to catch the Clanner on his back again, but that Mechwarrior was really good, and knew the town better than he did. So, when they met again, they were facing each other, only this time Arthur was the slower gunman.

Both gauss rifles fired as one, hitting hard over the heavily damaged right torso. The structure actually bent backwards before collapsing all of a sudden, the whole arm/shoulder mount flying away and crashing into a building. Off balance, the _Thanatos_ stumbled to its left, slamming the remaining shoulder into a nearby facade, making rubble cascade over its feet. Before Arthur could recover, that mouth-like missile launcher fired another volley, sending a few warheads into the belly of the 'Mech, cracking the gyro, which promptly destroyed itself while spinning out of control. Unable to keep balance, the _Thanatos_ fell to its knees.

Looking beyond the cracked canopy of his ruined machine, all that Arthur could see was that red visor built over the cockpit. The feral-looking machine aimed the gauss rifles for the final blow.

_This is it…_

_Francis, my son, now you're the man of…_

Two glowing blue beams hit the flank of the monster, instantly turning armour into shrapnel flying in all directions. Confused, the Clanner tilted the torso to see what was attacking him, and Arthur, pulled away from his vertigo, immediately aimed the 200mm autocannon, the arm rising with desperate sluggishness. Suddenly reminded of his not-so-dead adversary, the Jaguar tried to turn back at him, but it was too late.

The huge muzzle exploded and the red visor shattered while the armoured plate around the cockpit bent inwards before spewing a mixture of burned electronics and pulverized flesh. That terrible monster simply fell backwards, like a colossal rag doll, crashing into the ground with a huge boom.

And that was it. The entire control panel went dark right after that final shot, and even the smooth hum of the fusion engine dimmed until it disappeared entirely. Arthur allowed himself to sink into the command chair with a sigh. The adrenaline was still rushing through his veins, making him tremble, and his heart beat like a drum. Down there, in the end of the street, Antonios _Nova Cat_ came to a halt near the downed assault 'Mech, to see if it was really dead.

"Thought you needed a hand." Antonios voice come through the portable communicator placed over the neck guard of his uniform.

"Thanks… Where's the _Cougar_?"

"Somewhere…" The _Nova Cat_ moved with the grace of a huge athlete, something it somehow looked like, scanning around in search of its prey. "I'll get it."

And then he disappeared, back to track his own adversary. Suddenly alone, Arthur sensed he shouldn't stay there for much longer. He pushed a lever on the side of the canopy, and the bolts holding it closed exploded, sending the whole part away, to crash violently into the tarmac. After getting rid of the harness, he moved to the tip of the cockpit and jumped to the leg, and then to the ground. His feet touched a pool of viscous dark-green fluid, spreading under the ruined chassis. Coolant fluid, shedding through ruptured tubing, the dead machine's blood. Looking up, Arthur could get a better sense of the damage. He would later prefer to not have done that.

The _Thantos_ was an utter ruin. Illuminated by several small fires consuming its innards, its torso was an unrecognizable mess, of bent internal structures, burned electronics, ruptured tubes and pending myomer musculature, looking a little too much like ripped flesh. That thing would never fight or even walk again, and it would be a marvel if the technicians could get any spare parts from it at all. For a prototype, though, it had served wonderfully.

Saying goodbye to the machine he'd fought with for those last, terrible, weeks, Arthur walked away, seeking shelter in one of the nearby buildings; the main door cracked open by a splinter of armour, tall as a man. Through one of the windows (the glass miraculously intact), he looked up into the night, observing the descent plumes from the arriving dropships. The liberation army. He touched the communicator, searching for the infantry's radio channel.

"Hammer, this is Anvil, do you hear? Are you there Hammer?"

For a second, nothing… And then…

"Anvil, this is Hammer reporting."

"What is your situation?"

"Situation reports as follows… We have taken control of the anti-aircraft command centre. The towers are ours. We are facing a counter-attack, though. Infantry."

"Can you hold the line?"

"Humm…" The man didn't seem that secure, but he ended up saying. "We will hold. Just let the Kuritas land and then these Jaguars will taste some of their own medicine!"

"Good luck then, Hammer. Anvil out."

So the mission was a success. Grabbing his sub machinegun to give him some comfort, Arthur proceeded to make contact with the decoy strike team. The fate of those men and women was more uncertain. Was someone still alive, yet?

"Lobo One, this is Anvil, please report. Lobo One, are you there? Jezebel, are you there?"

The answer came from a shaky voice, a young man.

"Anvil, Lobo One here."

That guy was probably a young sergeant, or a corporal. What happened to rest of the unit?

"Please report situation…"

"Well… We sustained heavy casualties. All 'Mechs destroyed, and a lot of injured. We're now taking refuge in an abandoned building…"

"The Smoke Jaguars?"

"I think they are retreating, sir. Seeing that many dropships might have scared them somehow, and their remaining forces are leaving the town."

Clanners, retreating? The other operations should have succeeded too, forcing the Jaguars to pull back and reorganize their defences.

"I think… I think we've won, sir!"

Arthur sat in a chair, in the middle of that abandoned dark room. Now that his body was starting to chill, the pain from the injuries sustained during the fight was making itself too pungent to ignore. He massaged his neck with his free hand, where a sudden pain exploded around the nape, making him dizzy.

So, they won... He'd performed his duty to House Davion, and would now get to return to Galatia III and see his family again.

But how many had been refused that chance?

"Yes… We've won…"


	9. Chapter 08

BOOK II

THE HUMAN EQUATION

* * *

ENTRY LOG 0601-25

USER(BOX) JOYEUSE to USER(BOX) SANGLAMORE

RECEIVED 07-08-3059

DECRYPTING

_They have fallen for it, the little moths! So proud of themselves and yet so gullible, so easy to push into whatever direction we wish! Oh, the irony behind which befouls such a foul bunch of so-called saviours of civilization, whom yet only assist in destroying it further!_

_Oh, love, we will have our objective on our grasp so very soon, I can feel it in my oh-so-damaged head! The brothers are already uneasy with the wait, so much do they want to show those pests who are the real defenders of our race! _

_Soon we will be falling over our objective! You shall have news from us! _

ERASE? Y/N

* * *

VIII

Contrary to what was expected, the survivors from 1st Davion Guards Lobo Company weren't sent back to Galatia III once their mission in Port Arthur was finished. That would be the easy way out, it seemed. Instead, they were sent to Tanh Linh, a frontier world being used as staging area for part of the invading army. And there they waited for new orders, as entire units were rebuilt and sent back to the front line. They even saw a few come back, terribly battered by their encounters with the Smoke Jaguars. And while all of this happened, and the war kept developing, they waited, without knowing if they would be finally sent home, or back into hell.

During those days, Arthur Cassini had nightmares.

He was always in a dark alley, looking at his family, Fátima, Francis, John, bracing themselves as a huge monster walked slowly, but steadily, in their direction. Cornered into a dead end, his family couldn't escape, and just waited for their demise, horrified as the gigantic beast approached them. And Arthur tried to save them, but he was stuck in his cockpit, the BattleMech he could use to save his family ruined, and incapable of even lifting its remaining arm to fire at the monster. Then, just when that dark and amorphous mass was about to crush his family it seemed to lose any interest, and turned back at him. The V-shaped visor glowed in the night, as the Clan OmniMech just stood there looking at him, dazzling him with the red light.

It was at that point that Arthur would wake up. It was always the same, every night, sometimes several times in a row. The waiting, he thought, was beginning to wear him down.

One day he simply gave up on trying to sleep and went to the hanger where the remaining 'Mechs of his unit were stored. The monster of his dreams was there, too, being repaired by the techs. The data recovered from its on-board computers classified that machine as a _Blood Asp_, a 90-ton assault 'Mech, state of-the-art technology, never-before seen in the Inner Sphere. Big as it was, it managed to be agile and heavily armed, even if not very well-armoured. The machine was a frightening sight, and it was obviously designed to be that way, to use fear as a weapon in itself. With the _Thanatos_ destroyed and his personal assault-class _Awesome_ BattleMech still stored in his homeworld, Arthur decided to use the captured machine as his personal ride until he was sent back home, regardless of the horror he felt for it. He wasn't even sure if he would have the courage to seat in that cockpit, if the need arose…

His digression was interrupted when the awaited orders finally arrived. A corporal came rushing at Arthur, telling him to make haste to the major-general's office. The simple prospect of finally having something to do erased most of Arthur's uneasiness, almost without him noticing, and he gladly went to meet his superior. Unknown to him, those orders would be very different from what could ever expect.

Lieutenant-General Taylor Reese was waiting for him in the Officer's Room of the main quarter's building. The corporal stayed outside, closing the door behind Arthur, who nodded to Reese while he approached the metal table at the centre of the room. Only then he noticed that there was a second person in the room, a female figure half-melded in the shadows near the farthest wall, with both hands over a pile of papers and holoplates. He decided to ignore her for a moment.

"Congratulations for your promotion, Taylor," Arthur said.

The woman smiled faintly. Of course, it was good to be promoted, rewarded for the dreadful efforts made. But both of them knew of what that promotion cost. She wasn't nearly as happy as she would like to. Regardless, there wasn't that much time to think about it, either. The war was still going on and she had a whole new set of responsibilities over her shoulders.

"Thank you, Arthur," Lieutenant-General Reese said. "I'm sorry that you and your men remained somewhat forgotten during these days, but your unit… The whole regiment for that matter… Well… There's isn't that much of a Lobo Company left now."

Colonel Arthur Cassini flinched so slightly. She was saying the plain truth, in all honesty, but her frontal manners were something he had never gotten used to, not even during the few weeks of hell under her command in Port Arthur. Using euphemisms to describe dire situations was part of the Davion military culture.

"Somewhat... At this moment I only have three pilots, plus myself, and four captured BattleMechs available."

"I see." Reese turned to the other woman, who had been silent during the whole conversation. "Is that enough?"

She nodded, and then said:

"It is. We do not expect to use a full combat unit for this, only a few warriors that can act as our delegation and perform under the laws of the Clans, if needed."

Arthur looked surprised at Reese.

"An operation in Clan space?"

"You should probably describe it as a cover-up of sorts." She pointed to the other woman. "This is Agent Beatrix Shirazi, from the Department of Military Intelligence. She has been assigned a mission of the outmost importance, and needs a small group of elite Mechwarriors to accompany her."

"I see…" Arthur said bluntly to Shirazi, while crossing his arms. So, she was a spook. _That's good to know…_ He would never trust an Intelligence operative, it really wouldn't matter their supposed loyalty. Even if Arthur told himself that they were just doing their jobs, the old soldier's prejudice against spooks, that predated space travel itself, was still there, keeping him alert.

Still, he was a professional, and was been given an assignment.

"So, what is this mission about?"

* * *

"We're being called to save the Ghost Bear's arses?" Master Sergeant Pavlos de Cyrrhus asked in astonishment.

"It's not that simple, Pavlos." Major Jazebel Solá replied, looking away from her comrade, and back towards Arthur. "From what I understood, the Bears are suffering pirate raids."

The colonel leaned against the back of the coach, while looking at the two Mechwarrios, sat on front of him. Pavlos and Jezebel had miraculously survived their fight inside the town of Redstone. Jezebel had to spend a week in a field hospital recovering from her wounds, but now she insisted to be ready for anything. After the briefing, he assembled what remained of his team on the officer's rest room, which was usually empty at that hour of the day. He closed the door, just to make sure no one would interrupt their meeting, nor hear any of the confidential information they had to discuss.

"It's even trickier than that, it seems." The team leader admitted. "According to the spook that's going to accompany us in this, the Bears are, for the moment, dealing with these attacks as pirate raids. They're also relocating a lot of troops to the attacked worlds, and asking us if we have anything to do with it."

"That doesn't make any bloody sense!" Pavlos exclaimed. "Why would we attack the Bears? I mean… We're already at war with the Jaguars, and it's not being exactly easy, now is it?"

"I do believe the Ghost Bears share the same opinion. That's why they're demanding us some explanations. And that's why we do have to go there."

"But there's more, I believe." Antonios' voice came from the nearest wall, against which he was leaning. He looked directly at Arthur, who nodded in agreement.

"Yes, there is. And this is where the situation gets complicated, too." He supported his elbows over the sofa, and leaned forward, thoughtful. "This kind of goodwill missions into Clan territory is not as uncommon as one might think. The Clanners are aggressive, and sometimes someone needs to go there to access the situation. But there's a further reason for them to have chosen us, and why this operation was taken over by the Davion Intelligence."

Arthur let a measure of silence fall over the room, creating some suspense, calling all of his warriors' attention. After a few heartbeats, it was Jezebel who made the question.

"And what would that be?"

The leader then reached for the holoplate in the pocket of his uniform, pressed the small switch on its side to light the projector, and pushed it across the table. Everyone looked at the half-metre tall image showing an anonymous industrial area and a few 'Mechs. Even Antonios came closer to inspect it. The image was terribly dark, but, still, the major details were discernible.

"What are we looking at?" Arthur's second-in-command asked.

"Those are Lyran BattleMechs seen by one of our spies in Fort Loudon. They were boarding dropships that were sent on some undisclosed operation. The DMI analysts believe they were heading into Clan space."

"But why?" Jezebel glanced at Arthur, obviously confused with the sudden turn of events.

"That's something we must find out. We'll have to put ourselves in good terms with the Ghost Bears and, if possible, ask for their help to solve this mystery."

Pavlos let out a sardonic laugh.

"Just when I was thinking this was going to be simple…"


	10. Chapter 09

IX

Farn Jorgensson strode into the room, the urgency of the situation making his movements look like those of a predator on patrol. Star Colonel Chou Vong was already there, with some of his command staff, looking at the picture displayed in the big screen covering most of the farthest wall. The fighter pilot halted in the middle of the room and saluted.

"Star Captain Farn Jorgensson present, sir."

Chou Vong glanced at him. He seemed thoughtful, arms crossed and alert posture.

"Ah, you deigned to join us, Star captain?"

The scorn again… Farn let it slip by, although he noted that sentence on his mind, next to all the others. The situation called for all of his attention. He turned to the big screen, where a slightly distorted image of two spherical dropships could be seen. On the flank of the nearest one the symbol of a horse head with a flaming mane was clearly visible, even through the interference. A Clan Hell's Horses' ship. His fight had finally came to pass

"So, they are issuing a formal _batchall_, now?" He asked to the commander of the planet's defenses.

"Why are they not doing this closer to the planet? Why doing it from the middle of nowhere?"

"That is a good question, Star captain. But the 201st Mechanized Assault Cluster is an unusual fighting unit, to say the least."

"The Bearslayers…" Farn mumbled. "Is the commander…?"

"He confirmed a few minutes ago. Star Colonel Emilio Houan himself."

The fighter pilot frowned. Garrison duty was usually quite eventless and warriors tended to show some degree of disdain for it, regardless of the orders. That week on Ardoz, though, was turning out quite hectic.

First, a courier ship had arrived in the system, and with it the news about the so-called pirate raids harassing a few worlds on the Smoke Jaguar Occupation Zone at the border, and about the troop deployments made to counter them. Then, a few days later, another unexpected ship materialized on the zenith point of the star in the core of that system. It was an _Invader_-class vessel, the most common transport across human space, so it was of no use to try to search the databases for it. It did sent a few hailing identifying itself as a Clan Hell's Horses ship. By the rules of engagement, it should be left alone until orders in contrary. Still, Vong ordered a _Fredasa_-class warship patrolling the area to keep an eye on it.

A few hours after the arrival of the jumpship, a pair of _Union_-class dropships disconnected from the docking rings and headed for Ardoz. Despite the electronic interference created by the active star, the patrol ship was capable of taking a few pictures on the spot, one of them being the low-quality image displayed on the screen.

Still, a few days passed before the dropship's crew sent any message regarding their credentials and intentions. And when they did, it was a request for a Trial.

"What are they bidding for?" Farn asked.

"That is actually quite interesting of a question." Vong rubbed his jaw while saying those words. Something about the whole situation was intriguing him deeply.

"How so?"

"They are bidding for all the data uncovered on the excavation site between March 3056 and December 3058."

"They are interested on the Installation?" Now Farn was actually surprised. "How do they know about the excavation site? And about what the Scientists are doing there?"

"I know as much about that as you do, Star captain." Vong turned to the rest of the command staff. "Star Captain Jocelyn, have someone inquiring the scientists associated with the excavation site. I want to know what they have discovered there that made the Hell's Horses so interested in coming here. Also, I want to know how the information did transpired. Use any means necessary to ensure results, _quiaff_?"

"_Aff_, sir!" The big, muscular, elemental woman exclaimed.

Vong nodded, and then turned back at the screen, his index finger hovering over the record button on his wrist computer.

"Now, let us see the best way to answer their request…"

"Will you accept their _batchall_, sir?" Farn asked, all of a sudden. Every Mechwarrior and elemental turned at him, surprised and slightly infuriated. The Star colonel's eyes became narrow fissures.

"You are starting to annoy me dearly, Star captain… How can a warrior refuse a challenge, especially coming from such a hated adversary as those Hell's Horses?"

"Sir…?"

"Still… I do want to listen to your reasoning, Farn Jorgensson. Just make it plain and clear, if you please."

The fighter pilot dry swallowed.

"Something about his seems odd to me, sir. Why are those Bearslayers issuing a _batchall_ form the middle of space, having to wait several minutes for a response, when they could do that once they reached our orbit? Our people are not known for their patience, if I may say so."

"You may…"

"_Aff_. I do not recall any _batchall_ being requested in this fashion. Even more, the timing for this raid is quite strange, now that we are suffering several pirate raids. It just seems too much of a coincidence. But, still… It is their intended target that really bugs me."

"It would not be the first, or the last time a raid is made in order to secure technological breakthroughs, Star captain. If I am well remembered, it is by this way that our people spreads their technology and knowledge."

"Indeed, sir. But, still, I would like to give the advice of posting my binary on alert during your engagement with the Hell's Horses, just in case."

"Your interest for those Spheroid tactics, if you can call them that, really broke your spirit, Farn Jorgensson. Consider your request as under review. You are dismissed."

The Star colonel gave no further attention to the fighter pilot, and started to choose the words for his answer to the challenge. Containing his fury, Farn Jorgensson saluted and turned over his heels, leaving the room. He had given just a few steps into the adjacent corridor, when Star Captain Jocelyn appeared on his side, placing a hand over his shoulder. The fighter pilot turned to meet her hazel eyes.

"Are you trying to get yourself killed, Farn Jorgensson?"

He looked away from her, somewhat intimidated. Although the elemental phenotype was a usual sight in any Clan, he believed he would never be used to deal with a woman who was so much taller and more muscular compared to him. Whenever he thought about that, a small voice inside his head asked him if some Spheroid manners were really slipping into his mindset.

"Not yet." He admitted.

Jocelyn smiled.

"Is that so? Because I would say that you are making amazing efforts in that regard."

"It is just… We are ill prepared for facing the Spheroids. Look at the Smoke Jaguars! They are being eradicated. How much time do you think we have before the Inner Sphere powers turn against us?"

"Do you think I do not know that? These are interesting times to be alive, you know? So many things changing… So many battles to partake in…"

Farn shrugged and turned his back at her.

"If you say so."

The elemental women smirked.

"You know… You can always…"

"I know." The fighter pilot raised an arm to stop her midsentence. He didn't turn to her, though. "But I will not do it now. Not now…" And then he walked away.

"Do as you please, Farn Jorgensson." Jocelyn's voice seemed almost scornful, yet he knew better than to respond to it, and, again, let the words of others slip by. Behind them, in the control room, Star Colonel Chou Vong was finishing his answer to the Hell's Horses _batchall_.

"You will face my forces at the forest area, to the North of Valladolid Base. I thereby declare my conditions! Bargained well and done!"


End file.
